Yakima Canutt leaps from wagon seat to a team of galloping horses in one of the many spectacular stunts he performed for the movie Stagecoach (1939).
Yakima Canutt and his horse Boy, circa 1925, in a rare portrait on the set of one of the low-budget oaters they made for Ben Wilson’s Goodwill Pictures.
Rarely seen posing, famed stuntman Yakima Canutt inscribed this publicity shot from his acting days with Boy to pioneering Western director Hobart Bosworth, who happened to be a direct descendant of Miles Standish and John and Priscilla Alden.
And One Little Cowgirl
Even child star Baby Peggy (Diana Serra Cary) got into the act. Baby Peggy’s wildly successful films parodied popular films of the day. In several 1921 two-reel Western comedies, the three-year-old superstar was paired with a miniature jet black horse named Tim. Taught to ride by her stuntman father, the cowboy Jack Montgomery, Baby Peggy mustered all her strength to try to control the obstreperous little horse. Although he was only 36 inches tall at the withers, or 9 hands as horses are measured, Tim was a pistol. “He was a difficult horse,” says Diana, reminiscing about her Baby Peggy days with Tim. “He was always cow-kicking and pinning his ears.” He also ran away with her one day when she and her father were out for their Sunday ride on the bridle path that used to run along Sunset Boulevard from the beach to Hollywood. Father and daughter were quite a sight as Jack, in a white Stetson hat, was mounted on his 17-hand gray horse, White Man, and Diana was astride tiny Tim. A passing trolley car startled Tim and he bolted. Jack could easily have reached down and swept his daughter from Tim’s back, but he wanted her to learn to control him. Listening to her father as he shouted instructions at her, Diana managed to turn the runaway Tim on to a side street where she “finally planted him on his tail almost in the laps of a couple who were reading their Sunday paper on the ivy-covered porch of their bungalow.” After that episode, she says that Tim turned into a very honest horse.
Silent star Baby Peggy (Diana Serra Cary) parodied the cowboy-horse partnership on her miniature horse, Tim, in Peg O’ the Mounties, 1924.
Future Legends Get a Leg Up
Marion Michael Morrison was no stranger to the saddle. He grew up in the California desert town of Lancaster and rode an old mare named Jenny to school and back, a 10-mile round trip. “Riding a horse always came as naturally to me as breathing,” he once said, “and I loved that mare more than anything in the world.” Young Morrison, nicknamed Duke, was heartbroken when Jenny had to be put down. He was destined, however, to forge bonds with quite a few more horses in his life as an actor.
Duke Morrison won a football scholarship to USC but, like so many other young men, was drawn to Hollywood. Inspired by his idol, silent Western star Harry Carey, Morrison had a hankering to be a screen cowboy. He worked as a prop man and appeared in a number of films as a bit player until director Raoul Walsh gave him a break in the 1930 Western The Big Trail. Walsh reportedly also gave Duke Morrison a new name: John Wayne.
The Big Trail was not a big success, but it started Wayne on his own trail to superstardom. In a series of films for Warner Brothers, he was paired with a white horse named Duke (after Wayne’s own nickname). One of these movies, Ride Him, Cowboy (1932), is credited with making Wayne a star. Wayne shared billing with Duke, “his Devil Horse,” but the handsome former parade horse, with a long flowing mane and tail, looked anything but devilish.
In later films, Duke (really several different white and light gray or cream horses) became the Wonder Horse. It’s amusing now to watch these old films and hear the actor talking to Duke as if to an intellectual equal, something Wayne later admitted he didn’t particularly like. In those early days of Westerns, however, there was nothing better for jump-starting an actor’s career than the right costar—a good horse.
Another screen legend, Gary Cooper, had his first starring role as “the Cowboy” in the 1927 silent Western Arizona Bound. An excellent horseman who spent part of his youth on a Montana ranch, Cooper performed most of his own stunts, including a transfer from a horse onto a fast-moving stagecoach. Later that year, he starred as the title character of Nevada aboard a bald-faced sorrel and appeared with a horse named Flash in The Last Outlaw. Variety Weekly raved about this last film: “Cooper does some good work, rides fast and flashy on his horse ‘Flash,’ and impresses with his gun totin’ generally.” Gary Cooper’s illustrious career was officially launched—with the help of Flash.
Gary Cooper deploys his cowboy charm on schoolmarm Mary Brian in 1929’s The Virginian.
the Duke relaxes with Duke, his handsome Ride Him, Cowboy costar.
Rex, “King of the Wild Horses”
Most of the early horse actors found fame as partners of cowboy stars. Not Rex, an amazing black stallion, who became a star in his own right. Billed as Rex the Wonder Horse, this beautiful Morgan had incredible screen presence and a genuine wildness that enthralled audiences.
Foaled in Texas in 1915, Rex was registered as Casey Jones. Reportedly abused as a colt, he was eventually sold to the Colorado Detention Home to be used as a breeding stallion. One day a student took Rex out for a ride and never returned. His body was found near a stream, and it appeared that he had been dragged to death. Perhaps he fell and caught his foot in the stirrup, panicking Rex. Whatever happened, the stallion was branded a killer and sentenced to solitary confinement for two years.
Meanwhile, producer Hal Roach was preparing a new film in 1923, The King of the Wild Horses. He was looking for a fresh black stallion to play the lead and recruited Chick Morrison, who looked after Roach’s polo ponies, to find the star. Morrison and Jack “Swede” Lindell, considered the most gifted horse trainer in Hollywood at the time, scouted prospects in several western states. The men heard about the “killer stallion” at the Detention Home near Golden, Colorado. They decided to take a chance and went to see Rex. Morrison and Lindell were impressed with the stallion’s charisma. They worked with him at the Detention Home for a week and schooled him at liberty, without a bridle or ropes connecting the horse to the trainers. At the end of the week, they staged a demonstration for the astonished wardens. Standing at opposite ends of the town’s Main Street, Morrison and Lindell called Rex back and forth between them, using only their voices and whip cues. The stallion’s talent confirmed, Morrison and Lindell bought Rex for $150 and brought him to Tinseltown, where he was stabled at the barn of Clarence “Fat” Jones, one of the largest suppliers of movie horses.
Rex, the glorious equine matinee idol, displaying the stare that unnerved his human costars and won him millions of fans.
Despite his ability to work at liberty, Rex never became a docile actor. He was famous for quitting when pressed too hard for obedience and once ran 17 miles from the set on a Nevada location. It was this untamed aura that attracted audiences, making it worthwhile for the studios to work with the difficult horse. Rex made his debut in King of the Wild Horses, the film that gave him his nickname, and became an instant hit. Hal Roach Studios quickly capitalized on Rex’s appeal with Black Cyclone (1925) and The Devil Horse (1926). In all these films, he was perfectly typecast as a wild stallion. Hank Potts, a pioneer movie-horse handler, once said there was “an unusual and arresting gleam in Rex’s eyes, like the untamable stare of an eagle.” On one location, Navajo on the film said that Rex had a devil imprisoned in him. Some even wore amulets against his “evil eye.”
Oddly, Rex was infuriated by spitting, perhaps as a result of being so taunted at the Detention Home. Whatever the origin of this bizarre quirk, Lindell exploited it to incite the horse’s on-screen wrath. Standing just off camera, Lindell only had to spit, and Rex would charge forward, eyes wild and teeth bared.
The black stallion Rex strikes a regal pose in his debut film, The King of the Wild Horses (1924). In his best penmanship, Rex has inscribed this photo to early cinematographer and special- effects man Ernie Crockett.
Since most actors refused to work with Rex, his double, a quiet gelding named Browni
e, was used in close-up scenes. Only the fearless former rodeo star, actor, and topnotch stuntman Yakima Canutt would work “up close and personal” with the stallion. Canutt costarred with Rex in The Devil Horse and had a close encounter with his wild side. In one scene, Rex had to run to Canutt’s character during an Indian battle. He had performed the liberty work beautifully for several takes, but Canutt noticed he was getting mad. He warned the director, Fred Jackman, that the horse needed a break. Jackman pressed for one more take—and Rex snapped. He charged Canutt, baring his teeth. “I tried to duck,” Canutt remembered in his autobiography, “but his upper teeth hit my left jaw and his lower teeth got my neck. I was knocked to the ground, and he reared above me, striking down with his powerful front hooves.” Canutt managed to roll away and kicked Rex on the nose. Still the horse came after him even when Lindell tried to call him off. “I finally rolled over a bank and escaped,” wrote Canutt.
Rex’s frequent costar was a pinto stallion, Marky. Sometimes he was used as a shill, to incite Rex to fury with an off-screen whinny. Marky had some hair-raising on-screen tussles with Rex, carefully orchestrated by Lindell, who made sure neither stallion was injured no matter how vicious the fight appeared. Their hooves were shod in soft rubber shoes to soften kicks, and their teeth were wrapped in gauze to prevent serious bites. Fake blood added to the realism of the fight scenes, which were acted for keeps by both stallions.
Behind the back of an oblivious Native American chief, Rex’s nemesis, the pinto Marky, menaces his off-screen rival in The Devil Horse (1926).
In early 1927, Rex was sold to Universal Pictures. There he continued his career, appearing in several films with Jack Perrin, an appealing cowboy actor. One such film was Guardians of the Wild, released in 1928. Perrin plays Jerry, a forest ranger who talks to his gorgeous light gray mare, Starlight, the actor’s frequent costar. As bright as she is beautiful, Starlight, of course, understands every word. Playing a sympathetic character for a change, Rex is depicted as smarter than Jerry and expends a considerable amount of energy trying to communicate with him.
Critics loved Rex, as is obvious in this 1928 review of Guardians of the Wild from Photoplay magazine: “Rex, the ‘Wonder Horse,’ is the star; but you see little of him. He’s buried under a pile of screaming heroine, half-witted hero, wronged father, and leering villain. Too bad a horse can’t choose his own stories!”
In another of Rex’s films, Wild Beauty (1927), the stallion costars with a French Thoroughbred mare named Valerie. The film features Rex at his wildest, killing a mountain lion, battling cowhands who have roped him, tearing into a rival stallion with a vengeance, and galloping at breakneck speed to accomplish his varied goals in the film. His performance is truly stunning.
Rex never outgrew his wildness. In fact, during the filming of Smoky in 1933, he charged an actor and knocked him to the ground, as scripted. What followed was pure improvisation by Rex, who began tearing the man’s clothes off with his teeth. The director cut the frightening scene from the film.
Rex is credited in nineteen films, but he played anonymously in countless others as an incorrigible stallion. His career continued into the talkies era, and in 1935 at age twenty, he costarred with the German Shepherd Rin Tin Tin Jr. in a twelve-part Mascot serial, The Adventures of Rex and Rinty. Rex made his final film in the late 1930s. He eventually retired to the ranch of Lee Doyle in Flagstaff, Arizona, where he was turned out with a band of mares. Although Rex sired a number of foals, none became a movie star. Truly one of a kind, Rex passed away sometime in the early 1940s.
3. Horse Heroes and Singing Cowboys
“Back in the saddle again, back where a friend is a friend…”
—Gene Autry and Ray Whitley, “Back in the Saddle Again”
Pardner and friends are serenaded by Monte Hale.
The advent of sound opened up whole new vistas on the celluloid range. Actors could be heard delivering their lines at last, and sound effects provided extra realism. For Westerns, this meant that for the first time, smacking fists, gunfire, and thundering hooves rattled speakers in movie houses across America. It also meant the birth of a new kind of Western hero: the singing cowboy. Tough enough to roust out the vilest varmint, the singing cowboy was also clean living and honest to a fault, with a smile and a song always at the ready. More than one of these new heroes sang his way into the hearts of moviegoers. The two most famous were Gene Autry and Roy Rogers. Just as celebrated were their horses, Champion and Trigger.
Gene Autry and the original Champion, along with their costar Buck, grace a lobby card for their movie Melody Trail (1935).
The Horse Opera
Cowboy music was already extremely popular with radio audiences so it’s no wonder that the first sound Western, In Old Arizona (1929), was also a musical. Warner Baxter won an Academy Award for his performance as the Cisco Kid. Both he and his costar, Dorothy Burgess, sang as did members of the cavalry. A microphone strategically hidden in some sagebrush captured the exciting sounds of galloping horses for the first time in movie history. The immense success of this Best Picture-nominated venture convinced filmmakers that cowboys and music were a marriage made for box-office heaven, and the horse opera was born.
The singing cowboy’s boots are planted in practical tradition. Cowboys driving cattle from Texas to northern stockyards learned that nervous steers could be comforted by song. Yearning for amusement after dusty days on the trail, cowboys also sang to entertain one another. While no record of these early singing cowboys’ efforts exists, they sparked an enduring tradition. Even now, many country music stars dress as cowboys and cowgirls, embracing the imagery of the Old West that has come to symbolize all-American qualities of integrity and freedom.
Tom Mix hired live cowboy singers to entertain audiences between showings of his silent films but never attempted to warble himself. Western star Ken Maynard, however, had “long had a hankerin’” to sing, and in his first all-sound feature, Kettle Creek (1930), he not only performed some of his most spectacular stunts with Tarzan but also worked in some songs. He repeated the formula in a few more films for Universal. Although Maynard enjoyed a brief recording career with Columbia Gramophone, the cowboy star had a raspy, nasal singing voice that limited his appeal. Undaunted, he bought the film rights to a popular ballad about an incorrigible horse, “The Strawberry Roan,” and sang the title song in the 1933 movie of the same name. Maynard believed the singing cowboy was the next big thing, and Mascot Pictures chief Nat Levine agreed. In 1934, Levine produced In Old Santa Fe, which blended Wild West action and cowboy music on a modern dude ranch. Ken Maynard and Tarzan received top billing, but a young WLS radio star named Gene Autry, the “Cowboy Idol of the Air,” stole the singing thunder of his own long-time idol Maynard, whose poor singing had to be dubbed in the movie. Maynard and Tarzan were already fading into the sunset as Autry began his meteoric rise.
America’s Cowboy and the World’s Wonder Horse
“Back in the Saddle Again,” a catchy song about the pleasures of riding the range, became the first famous singing cowboy’s theme song. In Gene Autry’s case, the saddle was usually aboard one of a series of blaze-faced sorrel horses, all named Champion, who costarred with Autry in more than eighty films.
The Yodeling Cowboy
Born in 1907, a few miles outside the small town of Tioga, Texas, Gene Autry grew up around horses since his father, Delbert Autry, was a horse trader and livestock dealer. Blessed with a beautiful singing voice, Gene Autry was recruited for the choir in his Baptist minister grandfather’s church when he was just five years old. A little later, his mother taught him to play the guitar on a mail-order instrument. Young Autry was too practical, however, to consider music more than a hobby. Determined to avoid the financial insecurity that plagued his father’s life, he pursued more sensible ways to support himself. In 1924, the teenaged Autry was working as a telegrapher. On slow days, he would amuse himself by playing the guitar and singing. On one such day, legendary
western entertainer Will Rogers came in to send a telegram. After hearing the young man sing, Rogers encouraged him to try his luck in show business. Despite his previous concerns, Autry decided to take the advice and eventually landed a job singing on Tulsa station KVOO and became Oklahoma’s Yodeling Cowboy.
Autry initially found success as a radio personality, songwriter, and recording artist. By the end of 1931, he was a star on the network National Barn Dance and had his own radio program, Conqueror Record Time. His first hit, “That Silver Haired Daddy of Mine,” became the first million-selling gold record. Deservedly known for his business acumen, Autry realized the wide commercial appeal of a clean-living cowboy and honed his image accordingly. He came to the attention of Mascot’s Nat Levine, who cast him in In Old Santa Fe. Billed as the “World’s Greatest Singing Cowboy,” Autry sang two songs in the film and had a few spoken lines. Despite his greenhorn status as an actor, moviegoers responded positively to Autry and his smooth, melodious voice.
Gene Autry sings from atop the original Champion, who is easily distinguishable from his successors by his three white stockings.
The Phantom Empire
Mascot subsequently signed Autry to star in a twelve-chapter serial, Phantom Empire, a kitschy combination of science fiction and Western genres that showcased the actor’s singing. To bring Autry’s riding ability up to snuff, the studio paid for lessons with former rodeo champion and stuntman Yakima Canutt.
Hollywood Hoofbeats Page 4